That Moment When
by Late to the Party
Summary: One last conversation between Charname and Yoshimo. The two friends discuss a firmly cemented assumed connection/misconception and an alternative narrative. One-shot AU.


In a dimly lit room, Yoshimo stood a few short paces from his one-time comrade, a youth known in the north as the 'Terror of the Sword Coast'.

Sword lowered, the wickedly curved blade glinting, the man from Kara-Tur prepared to face a demigod, a friend, for the last time.

Creases bit into Yoshimo's brow, blackened rings beneath his eye sockets, a hollow, deadened light animating those dark, haggard eyes. An almost laconic lilt, a shadow of his former self, carried the weight and bitterness that had steadily grown since they met in Irenicus' lair beneath the City of Coin's streets, streets paved not with gold but with muck, mire, and death.

"Aren't you going to ask why?" Yoshimo inched into a low stance, his shoulders dropping.

Lines furrowed his former companion, even as his left readied the dagger, the dagger that would parry the two-handed cut that Yoshimo had demonstrated so many times. A single, decisive blow, the first and final strike; should that fail, the arcing blade would sweep and find the other place his armour was weakest. Well he knew how swift Yoshimo's swordhand was, how his own straight blade would thrust; how often he wondered whose blade was swifter, whose would claim the victory should this confrontation ever occur. It was inevitable, in the demigod's mind, had always leading towards this. It seemed so obvious, so settled that he found his brow scrunching.

"Are you not the brother of Tamoko?"

"Who is Tamoko?" Yoshimo's frown deepened, his lifting cheeks causing his gaze to squint.

"Oh. I thought… I mean, just… you are of Kara-Tur; she was also. I assumed this was about avenging her." Hefting his dagger pommel to scratch beneath the rim of his helm, the pause lengthened.

"Kara-Tur is a large place." Declared Yoshimo after some consideration. "Surely you do not think every – We look alike, this Tamoko and I?"

"Um… only in so far as you share similar… I mean, look, just forget it, okay? I – it's not like your people are commonly found here. Two so close together? And the way in which she – your culture is all about honour."

"Ah, yes, I see why you might think that." Yoshimo cleared his throat. "No, my friend, my tale is much different. But tell me, do you see every elf and think they are kin?"

"Elves are found more commonly here…but no, I should not have assumed. So how and why did you fall in league with Irenicus? One last tale, for old time's sake."

"It is a foolish story," Yoshimo glanced away, as if reflecting or cursing the choices of the path he had embarked upon, as though they were back in the tavern, "one best told over wine. Let us say that it was for love. I am _the_ Yoshimo, hunter of vile villains am I not?" The man deflated a little with the unspoken memory that the demigod had not heard of him during their first meeting. "I hunted the creature of the night, the 'sister' of Irenicus, though I knew it not at the time. I stalked her through the streets, the back alleys and rooftops, at first consumed with the thrill, then admiration… she moved like flowing water, like a shadow. How could I not? I caught up to her one night. It was too easy, but I had stalked her for many nights, and I was closing in. He took me, waiting for me, and I learnt that they were in league, as you say. By then it was too late; the hunt had become something else, something other than bringing her in. I could not deny the power of my own heart, and foolishly, I offered my services, believing that I might see her, might win her."

"Did she ever reciprocate?"

"I was a mouse caught in her trap, between her claws. She tired of me but I had agreed to serve Irenicus; the geas he placed upon me in exchange for my life… ah, love, my friend. Do not pity me. I would caution you against such dalliances but what man can rule his heart? So you see why it is we must exchange blows, crossing our steel."

The demigod shook his head and sighed alongside the man from Kara-Tur. "And should I take flight, you would pursue me to the ends of Faerun. I could leave you here, on this isle, in this mad place and visit my vengeance upon Irenicus, and once slain, you would be free." Musing aloud did little but stall the inevitable and yet the words came as easily as if they were sitting before a campfire. "Would that such a thing be possible. The moment I step back, your blade shall find my life and you are compelled to stand. You would have liked her, I think. She chose to face her fate with dignity, atoning for her betrayal through battling and overcoming the conflict within herself. You share a countenance, that same nobility. I salute you, _the_ Yoshimo."

The man from Kara-Tur raised his blade in kind, his foot drawing back, the slightest of sparkles passing his eye, the slightest of tugs on the corner of his mouth. "Come, my friend, let dance together one final time."


End file.
